Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The plan, allegedly at least, had been to play base quest. That was what Fitz had proposed when he’d hailed Keefe’s imparter earlier in the afternoon. Keefe actually suspected that inviting him over was more of an intervention, with base quest just the pretence, but Keefe wasn’t sure if Fitz was intervening for Keefe’s sake or his own. Truth be told, it felt more like an Alden-led intervention, in which case it was probably for the benefit of both boys.

Keefe had originally considered declining the invitation and curling back into the ball of blankets that had been his nest for the last week, but reluctantly admitted that he needed to shake himself up a bit. Foxfire had been on a temporary unplanned hiatus since it happened, but tomorrow the academy was going back to business as usual, and all prodigies were expected to be back – no exceptions. It was probably better to have a trial run of looking halfway normal in front of his best friend before he needed to act out some semblance of ‘normality’ in front of the whole school. So, he dragged himself through a shower and an abbreviated version of his usual hair routine and leapt to Everglen, using his own Everglen home crystal. Della had given it to him shortly after Alden and Della had met his parents for the first time. His parents always had a profound effect on people – for all the wrong reasons. Obviously, for Della, the experience had given her some insight into why her son’s best friend basically lived at their place.

He hadn’t actually seen Fitz since the planting in the Wanderling Woods. The first few days after Sophie and Dex had been washed away by the freak tidal wave he and Fitz had been together constantly, helping with the search where they could, pacing and keeping each other sane with less-and-less-convincing reassurances that their friends would be found alive when there was no task to distract them. Whenever Keefe came home, late at night and exhausted, he wrapped himself up in blankets like he was in some kind of fleecy cocoon and shed the tears he wouldn’t let anyone else see. Then he slid his mask back into place at the crack of dawn each morning to do it all over again.

But then the search had been called off. Two registry pendants were found at the bottom of the ocean, and they were confirmed to belong to Sophie Foster and Dex Dizznee. There was no chance they’d survived the ocean for so long, and all hope was abandoned. Funerals were arranged. Keefe had gone, dressed in a stiff green jerkin and cape, and witnessed Sophie’s planting. He couldn’t completely hide his tears there, but at least nearly everyone else was crying too, so he blended in. The Vackers and Ruewens had stood together, consoling each other, while Keefe was stuck standing on the outer with his parents. Fitz had taken the time to come over to him, but neither of them had known what to do, what to say, so they’d just loitered awkwardly. As soon as it was polite to do so, his dad had insisted they leave. Keefe didn’t argue.

It wasn’t until they’d gotten back to Candleshade and he’d escaped to the relative safety of his room that he’d completely fallen apart, his devastation flooding out of him, consuming him, overwhelming him so completely that his mom had actually come in to him. Not that she offered him comfort – and not that it would have helped if she had. Instead, she offered him a sedative. He was far too distraught to note that her knocking him out, even though it was only to shut him up so he didn’t piss off his dad, was still the nicest thing she’d done for him in ages.

He’d gladly accepted the little vial of syrup and downed it without hesitation – but once its sweet oblivion wore off, the impossible reality of a world without Sophie was still there. He’d never experienced grief before; had never had to experience someone he knew dying, and he didn’t know how he would live through it. Maybe it was the same for everyone. Or maybe, it was that the piece of Sophie which had been living in his heart since their first chance encounter was now dying just like she had – and was killing Keefe right along with it.

He'd even tried saying her name aloud a few times over those first few days after the planting. “Sophie,” he’d whispered into the muffled silence of his cocoon; hoping for that terrifying, wonderful buzz that he always got from speaking it. Hoping for that dangerously raw thrill of emotion that was the whole reason he had usually stuck with calling her the much-safer “Foster”. But all that happened was the crushingly painful hollowness inside him just grew worse until he couldn’t even breathe. He’d given up after about three tries. He couldn’t take any more attempts.

So even though Keefe had managed to talk himself into coming to Everglen this afternoon, he couldn’t bring himself to want to play base quest. Fitz and Biana were exactly as enthusiastic about the idea of playing as he was, because even though Alvar had come over and offered to make up the fourth player for them, it was too soon since they’d played base quest with Sophie for any of them to be able to face playing right now. Alvar just shrugged and let them be.

Instead, the three of them floated listlessly through the afternoon together, sometimes reminiscing quietly, sometimes fighting back tears and lapsing into silence when it got to be too much. Della invited Keefe to stay for dinner and he’d agreed. For all that he hadn’t originally wanted to come this afternoon, now that he was here, he couldn’t face the thought of being alone – and being with his own parents certainly didn’t count as having company. He wasn’t sure he’d tasted dinner though. Wasn’t sure any of them had. Alden, Della and Alvar shared a few quiet words after the meal before Alvar left, presumably headed home. Keefe wasn’t ready to leave yet so he followed Fitz up the hallway to his room instead.

As they were walking, Fitz suddenly turned a sickly shade of grey and staggered a little, bumping into Keefe.

“Woah, you okay?” Keefe asked, grabbing Fitz by both arms to steady him. He stood still, holding onto Fitz for a moment longer until he wasn’t worried his friend would collapse in a heap. He could feel shock and almost violent disbelief coming from Fitz where Keefe’s hand was touching the skin of Fitz’s forearm, and it was different to the grief he’d felt from him any other time recently.

“I...yeah – I just...it’s nothing,” Fitz grunted, tugging his arm free from Keefe’s grip and grinding the heel of his hand into his forehead so hard his skin turned pink.

“Nuh-uh. You’re gonna have to do better than that, Fitzy,” Keefe chided, one eyebrow cocked. “Can’t lie to your buddy the Empath.”

Biana had been ahead of them in the corridor, headed for her room, but she turned around and came back to them to see what was going on, a worried question written in her eyes as she looked at her brother first, then at Keefe. Keefe just shrugged.

Fitz forcefully shook his head a couple of times like he was trying to physically dislodge whatever was on his mind.

“I guess, the realisation that we’re actually going back to Foxfire in the morning is really hitting home and it’s catching me out,” he finally mumbled.

Keefe wasn’t convinced, but Fitz had some colour back in his cheeks and after a brief, silent stand-off, he started walking again. They hadn’t been in contact anymore so it wasn’t like Keefe could call him out on it this time. Keefe and Biana shared another confused look and then followed. They all filed into Fitz’s room, Biana pretending not to notice the exasperated look her big brother shot her for inviting herself into his space. Fitz sprawled sideways across his bed, Keefe flopped into the pile of floor cushions, and Biana sat in the chair, leaning with one elbow on Fitz’s desk and her head propped in her hand.

“The idea of school is just...weird,” Biana said. “I guess I understand that we have to go back eventually, but it still just seems so unreal that we’re expected to be back there tomorrow.”

“Exactly,” Fitz agreed, latching onto Biana’s words like a lifeline. He sat up, shooting a look at Keefe as if to say See, it was credible!

But being credible and being believable were very different things.

“I know the scrolls came a few days ago, but just knowing it was coming wasn’t the same as realising that it’s actually happening tomorrow. It’s definitely an unreal feeling,” Fitz continued.

“Well, yeah. But everything feels unreal. Not just going back to Foxfire. Pretty sure nothing will feel any kind of normal, any kind of soon,” Keefe relented and joined the conversation Fitz had diverted them into, deciding that if Fitz wasn’t going to share then there was no point hounding him. He probably didn’t want to know anyway.

The Vacker siblings both nodded thoughtfully at his statement, and the trio lapsed into thoughtful silence once more.

“I wonder if Dame Alina will make some kind of announcement?” Biana mused aloud after several minutes. “I can’t decide which is worse – the thought of standing there trying to hold it together while Dame Alina says something about them, or the thought of her just carrying on like it’s a normal school morning and nothing ever happened at all.”

Them.

None of them had said their names all afternoon. Even when they’d swapped a few reminiscences earlier, they’d managed to skirt around using their names. Like speaking their names made it more real somehow. Which is why it was such a shock when Fitz suddenly gasped “Sophie?” in a strangled sob. Keefe and Biana sat upright with a jolt.

“What is it, Fitz?” Biana asked, eyes wide. Fitz didn’t answer. His face was ashen, and his eyes were glazed and unseeing. He was still as a statue for a moment, then he startled again, turning his head as though looking at someone entering the room, despite the doorway being empty. Just as quickly, he dove in the other direction across his bed and snatched up a small purple Albertosaurus off his bedside table. Keefe recognised it as the gift Sophie had given Fitz for midterms. Fitz hadn’t seemed to pay it much heed at the time, but now he was clinging to it for all he was worth.

“You with us, dude?” Keefe asked, worried his best friend was losing the plot. Some weird reaction to grief, maybe? Keefe didn’t know enough about grief to know if this could be how it affected some people, but whatever was happening, it was scaring him. He stood and crossed to the bed, sitting down next to Fitz and taking hold of his wrist. All he could feel from Fitz this time was fear.

Actually, panic was probably closer to it.

“Fitz. Fitz! Look at me,” he said. Fitz didn’t respond at first, so Keefe squeezed his wrist tightly until he looked up at him.

“It’s nothing. It’s not real,” Fitz insisted.

“What isn’t real? What’s got you spooked?”

“I...I can hear her voice. Sophie’s voice. It’s like it used to be when she transmitted to me, but it can’t be, because she’s gone. I’m imagining things.”

“Wait, what? Transmitted? Foster’s a Telepath?” Keefe asked, then shook his head. “Never mind. I can come back to that one later. Right now – what is she saying?”

“Nothing! Because it’s not her – can’t be her – it’s not real! No one can transmit from so far away,” Fitz insisted again.

“Shut up for a minute, Fitz,” Biana ordered, standing directly in front of her brother with her hands on her hips. “You know full well that Sophie can do things no other elf can. So humour me for a minute and tell me before I make you regret it – what is Sophie saying?”

Keefe felt the faintest twinges of a smirk on the corners of his lips – not enough to show, but enough to feel that maybe smirking might be possible again one day. Biana was a formidable little sister. Best not to be messed with.

“She’s asking for help,” Fitz said. “Earlier she told me they weren’t dead but they were in danger of being killed, but now she just says Dex is injured and she can’t help him.”

“Earlier as in – is that what happened in the hallway after dinner? You heard her then, saying she was in danger of being killed? And you didn’t say anything?” Biana cried.

Fitz nodded glumly, looking down at the Albertosaurus in his hands. “I was worried that I’m going mad, and my precarious mental state didn’t seem worth sharing. And... I... I think now that maybe I might have heard her a couple other times before too, but it was indistinct, so I just really didn’t think anything of it those times. It’s never been loud like this. Just now, she sounded so clear it was like she’s here in the room.”

“Other times like before today?!” Biana nearly screeched.

Keefe decided he’d better intervene before she escalated, because he suddenly had a burning sense of urgency that wasn’t going to wait for hysterics (even if another part of him was ready and willing to match Biana octave for octave in the screeching stakes).

“Stop,” he said, standing up and stepping in between Biana and Fitz. “We can all yell later. You’d better believe I’m planning on it. Fitz, did Foster tell you where she and Dex are?”

“She told me about some tree that they’re near, but even if it was real, I don’t know how to find them from the tree she showed me.”

Keefe thought quickly, running one hand through his hair. “Okay, so if it’s not real and we go looking, at worst we waste a night running around chasing ghosts. If it’s real though, and we do nothing...” he trailed off. It didn’t bear thinking about. The looks on Fitz and Biana’s faces showed that they had run the thought to the same unspoken conclusion that Keefe had.

“You’re right. We have to act on it. But I still don’t know where they are,” Fitz stressed, standing up and pacing the room.

“Tell us about the tree she mentioned. Maybe one of us will know where it is,” Biana suggested.

“Uh, okay...It’s huge, and it has different parts to it. It has green leaves, but in one part there’s also flowers, and on another there looks to be snow,” Fitz described.

“That’s gotta be the Four Seasons Tree, right? In Lumenaria!” Keefe exclaimed.

Suddenly, they were all out the door and racing for the Leapmaster as fast as their feet could carry them. Just as Biana called the crystal down, Fitz grabbed Keefe’s arm. “What if I’m wrong?” he whispered.

Keefe gritted his teeth and looked steadily at Fitz. “Yeah. I know. But what if you’re right?” With that, the three of them joined hands and leapt away.

Chapter Text

As soon as they landed, they all spun around, scanning in every direction. Keefe saw the huge Four Seasons Tree not far from them, casting gloomy shadows in all directions. It occurred to him that anything could be in those shadows, and they’d raced in so unprepared. They didn’t know what to expect. They hadn’t brought anything with them. They hadn’t even told anyone where they were going.

Fitz saw them first, yelling and taking off in the opposite direction to the Tree. Keefe and Biana raced after him. Keefe could see two crumpled forms lying next to one another and as they drew nearer, he could see that Sophie was the closer of the two. It was really them! It was really her! “Sophie,” he whispered to himself, and the glorious buzz was back. Tears were streaming down his face as he slid to a stop next to them. Fitz had gotten there a moment before Keefe, and when he turned and looked up at Keefe, his face was equally streaked.

“They’re alive!” he choked. “But neither of them are conscious. We need to get them back home.”

“I...think we need Elwin,” Keefe said, eyes on Sophie as he spoke to Fitz. “I don’t think we can leap Foster like this. She’s pretty faded already and there’s no way we can risk making her worse, not when we’ve just got her back.”

Biana gulped back a sob yet sounded surprisingly calm when she spoke. “I’ll go get Elwin. I wouldn’t be strong enough to carry either Sophie or Dex anyway, so it’s the best way I can help them.” She pulled out her home crystal and was gone before either of the boys had a chance to answer her.

Keefe crouched down next to Dex. He was much thinner than he should be, and he had some burns on his chest where something had singed straight through his clothes, but he didn’t look too bad – all things considered. And he wasn’t faded, at least, so they should be able to leap him safely back to Everglen. Keefe was about to suggest that Fitz leap Dex back to Everglen while Keefe waited for Elwin with Sophie, but when he touched Fitz’s arm, he felt guilt radiating off his best friend. As much as Keefe wanted nothing more than to collapse next to Sophie and hold her fading form together by his own sheer willpower, he knew the dangers of guilt and he wasn’t going to put his feelings above his best friend’s sanity.

“Hey. It’s not your fault, Fitz. You know that, right?”

Fitz shook his head sadly. “I should have done something sooner. I was their only hope and I was ignoring her,” he whispered.

“You listened when it counted though. We’re here now; Dex and Foster are here now; that’s what matters. You led us to them. If you want to feel guilty for something, the blame for this dramatic rescue is all on you, dude. Well, mostly. Like, I still get cred for knowing which tree it was, out of all the squillions of trees on the planet. And I will be cashing in on my new status as hero – you can count on that,” Keefe told him with a smirk. His first real smirk in ten days. Even Fitz’s lips twitched as he almost smiled despite himself.

“Look, I’ll take Dex back to yours,” Keefe offered. “You stay here and keep Foster company. She’ll need it – pretty sure her weird phobia of physicians will manage to be problematic even while she’s unconscious. But just...talk to her, yeah? While you’re waiting for Elwin. Tell her you heard her. Tell her we came, that she’s safe now. She needs to hear it, but so do you.”

“You think she can hear us?” Fitz asked.

“Well, sure. I dunno, maybe you two can do some freaky Telepath thing even if she’s not up to speaking. Just – promise me, Fitz. No guilt. I’m not losing you right when we’ve got these two back,” Keefe said, as he scooped Dex’s slumped form over his shoulder and pulled out his Everglen home crystal.

Fitz nodded. “Thanks, Keefe,” he said. “I’ll be okay – we’ll be okay.”

Keefe nodded back. “See you soon, Fitzy,” he said as he and Dex glittered away.

***

Alden was waiting for Keefe and Dex by the gates of Everglen. Biana had given her parents a much-truncated (and rather loud) account of events as she’d briefly leapt home before leaping again to fetch Elwin. As soon as Keefe arrived, Alden was taking Dex from him and they hurried together up to the house. Keefe held the door for Alden as he brought Dex inside.

“We’re going up to the second floor; first guest room on the left,” Alden told Keefe. “Della is waiting for us there, along with Kesler and Juline.”

Keefe nodded and took the stairs two at a time, full of adrenaline and nervous energy. He watched as Alden gently lay Dex down on the large bed in the middle of the room, where he looked very small and pale against the sheets. Dex’s parents gathered in close, Kesler sitting on one edge of the bed holding one of Dex’s hands while Juline sat on the other side of the bed cradling Dex’s other hand in both of hers in her lap. Alden retreated back from the bed and Della stepped in with a damp facecloth which she used to start gently cleaning Dex’s face.

Keefe couldn’t imagine his parents acting like this if it had’ve been him found half alive after being missing presumed dead for ten days. On a good day, his parents were pretty indifferent to his existence. Most days, they were openly dismissive, tending towards resentful or even hostile on a bad day. This display of parental care and concern was well outside his comfort zone. It felt way too awkward to be in the room while everyone fussed and rejoiced over Dex in equal measure.

“I’ll be out at the gates, waiting for the others to get back,” Keefe said to no one in particular. He wasn’t sure anyone had heard him, but just as he turned to go Juline leapt up and smothered him in a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered, choking up. “Thank you.”

“Uh, sure, anytime,” Keefe mumbled, with no idea how to take this. His mom was not a hugger, and while Della had tried to hug him a few times here and there over the years, laughing as he squirmed away from her, standing still and receiving this grateful motherly embrace was something completely foreign to Keefe. He was relieved when Juline let go, giving his arm one last squeeze before returning to her son, where Kesler and Della were now trying to remove Dex’s burnt clothes.

Definitely time to make himself scarce.

In the hall, Keefe tossed up whether he should head for the Leapmaster instead of the gates. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait by the gates before everyone else got back, and he didn’t know if his nerves could take it. But when he was honest, he knew he’d be of no use to Sophie back at the Tree either. Elwin was who she needed, and he was already there – or at least, Keefe hoped he was already there. He blew out a frustrated breath and headed out to the gates.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to wait long at all. When he got down to the gates, Grady and Edaline were already waiting there pacing, and he groaned inwardly at the thought that he was about to be on the receiving end of another awkward expression of gratitude. Grady didn’t even glance at him, but Edaline saw him approaching and looked all set to start with the thanking and the hugging when Keefe was saved by three elves leaping into view. Edaline forgot Keefe existed as she turned to Sophie. Keefe even forgot Keefe existed as he turned to Sophie. She looked both better and worse than she had back at the Tree. In the light of Everglen’s gates, it was even more obvious how faded she was, but her face was less contorted than it had been before. No fear or pain creasing it anymore, just a smooth relaxation like deep sleep. He guessed a sedative had been involved, which means she must’ve woken up at least long enough to swallow it. He took that as a hopeful sign. Elwin and Grady worked together to take Sophie up to the house, Grady guiding her carefully with telekinesis while Elwin’s orbs of light continued to flit around her the whole way there.

Keefe started to follow them along the path, but he realised Fitz wasn’t following. As he glanced back over his shoulder, his brain connected what his eyes had seen but not noticed before. Only three elves had arrived, when there should have been four.

“Where’s Biana?” Keefe asked Fitz. Fitz watched the retreating forms of Elwin, Sophie, and the Ruewens for a moment before he answered.

“Elwin lent her his home crystal and sent her to get Bullhorn,” he said. “He said he’d need Bullhorn’s help to know how well his treatments are working.” He paused. “I want to stay with Sophie, but I know the adults will kick us out anyway. And Biana’s only a kid, who’s been leaping around alone half the night and is about to turn up with a cranky banshee. I should wait for her.”

“Fair call. I’m sure she’s not far away, but I’ll wait with you,” Keefe said. “But I gotta tell you, now that Foster and Dex are back I’m really hoping this is the last sensible thing I choose to do for a while. I have every intention of appreciating the gift that is their lives by leaving my recent serious self in the past and wreaking some havoc.”

Fitz snorted and sat down with his back against the gate, facing out into the night.

“Thanks,” Fitz said quietly as Keefe came and sat down next to him. “Not just for waiting. For calling me out, for making me listen to Sophie, for working out where they were, and for rescuing them both. If you hadn’t been here tonight...” he trailed off.

“What did I just say? Yet you’re still being all serious on me. Ugh, you asked for it. I don’t take many things seriously, Fitz. Never been my thing. But giving my best friend a well-earned kick up the backside when he needs it will always be a responsibility I take seriously,” Keefe said.

This time Fitz huffed a laugh, and gave Keefe a shove. It felt good to be able to joke a little. Like the crushing weight of the recent past was already lifting.

Then Biana appeared and the boys scrambled to their feet. Bullhorn didn’t look happy as she clung tightly to his wiry body for the leap, but as soon as they’d fully appeared he clawed his way out of her arms and frantically took off for the house, wailing loudly as he went.

The crushing weight was back, much quicker in slamming back down than it had been in starting to lift just moments earlier. Keefe, Fitz, and Biana shared one brief, horrified look before turning and sprinting after him, terrified what it meant, terrified to find out which one of their friends he was heading to – though Keefe had a sinking feeling that it was Sophie they’d find the banshee with when they made it inside and upstairs.

They’d only made it halfway up the stairs when Bullhorn reached the second floor landing. Dex was in the first room on the left. Sophie was in the room directly opposite, first on the right. The adults at the top of the stairs, drawn out of the rooms by the approaching wail, watched in horrified silence as Bullhorn raced toward them then dove right without hesitation. Worse, moments after he entered Sophie’s room, he fell silent. They all knew that meant he had curled up with her – and what the implications of that were.

Elwin hurried back to work. Grady and Edaline slumped down onto the hall floor, leaning into the wall and each other as they both sobbed. Juline looked torn between returning to her son or comforting her sister, then flung her arms around both Edaline and Grady as one, turning the three of them into a rocking, crying blob. Della and Kesler quietly started discussing leaving Dex where he was overnight, with a plan to hopefully be able to move him back home in the morning. Only Alden seemed to notice Keefe, Fitz and Biana standing mute and in shock on the stairs.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said soberly, meeting them on the steps where they remained frozen. “And unfortunately it is going to make this sound extremely insensitive, but I do need to send you home Keefe, and you two to bed, Biana and Fitz. Despite the events of tonight, you’re still going back to Foxfire in the morning – and it is after midnight already. You need to try to get some sleep.”

“It doesn’t just sound insensitive. It is insensitive. Are you really serious?” Fitz snapped, his temper flaring.

Biana peeled her hands away from her mouth, where they’d been clamped since watching Bullhorn launch himself into Sophie’s room, and took a deep breath to compose herself before speaking. “Sleep...doesn’t sound likely,” she said quietly. “Isn’t there anything we can do to help for a bit longer?”

Alden put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “You’ve done enough already, sweetheart. The rest of us will take over from here – and be assured we’ll work all night to turn this around. Between Elwin and Kesler we have the best physician and apothecary the Lost Cities has to offer, so you have no reason to worry,” he said in a soothing voice.

Fitz huffed and looked ready to bite back at his dad again. But Keefe had an idea. Something he needed to try. So he spoke up before Fitz had a chance.

“Can we at least see Dex and Sophie first, to say goodnight? Surely us being their saviours and all earns us that much?” he asked Alden.

He didn’t even care what Alden’s answer was going to be. It wouldn’t make a difference to him. No one seemed to think anything of it that Keefe had called her Sophie when he normally called her Foster, if they’d even noticed at all. But he knew the move he was making, knew the significance of what he’d just said – and felt. The buzz. It was strong and fierce and reassuringly still there. He would put his trust in that over a banshee’s instincts, however good. So when Alden apologetically declined, Keefe just nodded calmly, told his friends he’d see them at school in the morning, and leapt back to Candleshade.

Chapter Text

Dame Alina broke the news of Sophie and Dex’s rescue at orientation the next morning, to a great hubbub of chatter that she surely must have expected she’d quickly lose control over. Though given the circumstances, she seemed happy enough to let the cacophony have a moment of free rein.

Keefe and Fitz were standing together, both somewhat bleary-eyed after their late night and fitful sleeps. While everyone around them first exclaimed and then began speculating wildly, Keefe’s mind started ticking over the potential of the situation.

“No, nope, don’t,” Fitz told him. “I know that look.”

Keefe smirked. “I always look like this, Fitzy. So if you’re going to pre-emptively accuse me of something, you’d better have more to go on than that.”

“Well, how about that you told me yesterday that you were planning: yelling, havoc, and ‘cashing in on your new status as hero’?” Fitz counted off on his fingers.

“Definitely more convincing evidence than a ‘look’,” Keefe admitted with a shrug and a lopsided grin. “But still. This rumour mill is going to run its course with or without my influence, and I know which of those alternatives I’d prefer!”

“Things aren’t even certain yet. Bullhorn –”

“No, nope, don’t,” Keefe interrupted, repeating Fitz’s own words back at him. “I have complete faith in Foster. Look at the state the two of us were in yesterday, compared to where we are today. For instance you –” he grabbed Fitz’s wrist and held it up between them “– are no longer radiating grief, panic, or guilt. And the smirk I thought I’d lost for good has made a glorious comeback. A few minutes with Foster did that for us, even though she slept through the whole thing. Can you really begrudge sharing even a fraction of that miraculous healing with our fellow prodigies?”

“This sounds like an electoral campaign speech,” Fitz groaned, snatching his arm back.

“A what?” Keefe faltered.

Fitz sighed. “When I was going undercover in the Forbidden Cities looking for Sophie, one of the countries I was in one time had some kind of major leadership election going on. President of something or other. I guess they do a bunch of planned speeches and stuff, but apparently sometimes the candidates also make random public appearances to try to increase their popularity with the people who wouldn’t normally go to a planned one. Trying to get more votes. I accidentally encountered one of those appearances, but there were so many people I couldn’t get away. It took me nearly an hour to escape them.” He shuddered. “But I had to admit the guy was a shrewd wordsmith.”

“Huh. Well if you’re calling me eloquent and persuasive, I’ll take it. But the only thing I’m interested in being the President of is the Foster Fan Club.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Sure is. I invented it before midterms, when Lady Belva made Foster dance with Drool King Valin in detention. I’d kinda forgotten about it, but I’m totally resurrecting it now that I can be President. Wanna join?”

Fitz didn’t have a chance to answer, as Dame Alina had finally gleaned back control and the room had fallen quiet to listen to the rest of the day’s business. After a final announcement that finals were still being held on schedule (to a chorus of groans), orientation was dismissed and the prodigies erupted into another round of chatter as each Level dispersed to their respective wings.

“Later Fitz,” Keefe said, letting himself be swept into the throng rather than follow Fitz to their lockers in the Level Four atrium. “Can’t fight my calling!”

***

By lunch time, more than half of the prodigies in the academy had heard some version of the previous night’s rescue. Not a bad effort when the majority of sessions were taught one on one. Very few of the versions matched each other, or the actual course of events. Some of the details and changes had Keefe’s hand in them, but others had grown up organically as the stories were exchanged dozens upon dozens of times.

Fantastical versions including telepathic distress beacons, previously undiscovered beasts, human-ogre hybrids, secret passages, Everblaze infernos, sentient trees, and hand to hand combat with a golem were merging and diverging with every few cycles of retelling.

A small few had even heard a version somewhat similar to what had actually happened – though they were in the minority. And they’d more than likely heard it from Biana rather than Keefe.

Keefe had finished his lunch and was surveying the room with satisfaction when Fitz eventually made it over to the table with his tray of stringy blue and purple salad and a lushberry juice.

“I assume this is your doing?” Fitz asked, nodding his head at the broader room as he sat down.

“Only mostly,” Keefe shrugged. “I didn’t light the fire; I just fed it – but oh how it burns!” There was glee in his voice. Just one day ago, he’d have thought that impossible.

“I just got mobbed trying to get my lunch. Apparently, I wrestled a wounded Dex out of the arms of a yeti?”

“Ooh, that one wasn’t me, but I like it!” Keefe smirked. “Who’d you hear it from? I’d like to go propose a collaboration – just imagine the wonderous heights of rumour I could get going around if I had a sidekick with such imaginative potential!” Keefe gave an exaggerated dreamy sigh, propping his chin on his fist and staring off into space.

“Sophie’s telepathy seems to be one of the subjects going around,” Fitz frowned. He either missed – or chose to ignore – the dig Keefe had just made at his creative capabilities.

“Yeah, about that,” Keefe pounced, focusing in on Fitz with narrowed eyes. “I’ve got some of my own queries I need to follow up on after finding out about that myself yesterday. What’s the deal? When did she manifest? How long have you known? How’d she reach you all the way from Lumenaria? And why was her ability a secret? Spill!”

Fitz sighed. “This would be easier if you asked them one at a time,” he grumbled. “Um...she manifested when she was five, and I’ve known since the day I found her –”

“Five!? How did it take you and your dad so long to find her then? Surely ‘telepathic small human’ would’ve been the obvious first stop on the list!”

“She kept it secret. No one knew, not even her family. But it was actually how I worked out she really was the one we were looking for the day I found her. I wasn’t supposed to talk to her – my job was always just observing and reporting back to Dad. And when I saw her eyes were brown, I nearly discounted her. But I broke the rules and talked to her –”

“Aww, that’s my Fitzy! Growing up and learning to break the rules like a pro!” Keefe crooned, pinching at Fitz’s cheeks.

Fitz smacked Keefe’s hands off and shoved him with a laugh. “Oy, get off! Stop interrupting! Do you wanna hear the rest or not?”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. Continue!”

“Right, well anyway, while we were talking, a huge group of young kids came into the room and their mental voices were like crazy little shards which pierced through my shielding, and it really hurt. And when I saw the look on Sophie’s face, it was like she was in the exact same pain as I was, so I knew she’d heard them too.”

“That sounds... like it sucks to be a Telepath,” Keefe pulled a face.

“Around humans, yeah pretty much. They have no filter at all – it’s like they broadcast every thought they have. I learned pretty quickly how to keep them out, for the most part, but when there’s lots of thoughts all at once it’s a lot harder. And Sophie never even knew how to shield from them, so she’d been putting up with every single thought anyone near her ever had, for seven years after her Telepathy manifested.”

“Huh.” Keefe couldn’t even process that. Every thought. All of them. For seven years.

He knew what it was like getting a glimpse of someone’s true feelings when making unexpected contact. Sometimes that was hard enough – and his ability was limited by touch and oftentimes the emotions he picked up were out of context or non-specific. But every single specific thought, all of the time? It made his heart twist painfully for Sophie, and what he could only imagine she’d had to go through.

It also made him think back on their first chance encounter. She’d had so much doubt in her eyes. Clearly it wasn’t just the roguish vagabond accosting her in the corridor that gave her pause. It was not hearing his thoughts, but assuming they’d be in the same vein as the ones she’d grown up not being able to escape. He blew out a breath and rubbed his hand down his face.

“I... wow. Intense,” was the best he could articulate.

“Yeah,” Fitz said. Like he knew what Keefe meant even though he hadn’t found the words.

Keefe shook his head to try to clear it. “Stepping right away from that part of the topic. What’s with the long-distance calls?”

“Well, any Telepath can transmit thoughts or start a telepathic conversation,” Fitz shrugged. “It’s easiest with eye contact, but it can still work if you’re in close enough proximity to whoever you’re transmitting to if you know them well enough. But Sophie can do it without any of that. She’d been practicing transmitting to me in her ability sessions. Always made me jump so high whenever she did it, because no matter how many times it happened, I still never really expected it. And that was just from the Level Two wing to the Level Four wing. Dad and I had talked about that, and we couldn’t account for how she could transmit even that far, especially when she didn’t even know exactly where I was. So from Lumenaria to Everglen? I can’t even begin to explain it.”

“Huh.” It was turning out to be his word of the day. “So let me get this straight. Foster is a Telepath who is pushing the boundaries of the ability. Like we’re all being encouraged to do with all the different abilities – but she’s just putting the rest of us to shame by ripping up the rule book instead of rewriting a paragraph here or there. So why’s it such a big secret that she has an ability at all?”

“I’m not sure I fully understand the reason. But it was my dad and the Council who decided, so I’ve just had to play by their rules.”

“Huh,” Keefe said again. He let the information bounce around in his head for a while before he spoke again. “Any theories?”

“I think they’re actually scared of her, to be honest,” Fitz said. “The Council, I mean. Dad’s not. But no one can read her mind, even though she’s only just started training since coming here. That level of blocking should be impossible, even for someone super highly trained. So, I guess that makes the Council wonder why she’s like that, and if there’s something she’s hiding.”

“Pfft, and Foster claims not to be mysterious. Somehow finding out more about her makes her more mysterious, not less. But then...” his stomach sank as he fit the next pieces together. “So Foster is the secret prodigy that Sir Tiergan came back for, isn’t she? Ugh, my dad was right,” he groaned, bringing his forehead to rest on the table. “He’s gonna gloat so hard when he finds out!”

On that disheartening thought, the bells chimed the start of afternoon session. The Universe. He wasn’t even tempted to ditch it today for a change – but only because the dark classroom would make for a great opportunity to catch up on the sleep he didn’t get last night.

Or lie in the dark with his mind racing at a million miles an hour from everything he’d just learned. Whichever.

***

Keefe leapt to Everglen with Fitz and Biana after school, hoping to be allowed in to see Dex and Sophie. Della turned them away from Sophie’s door with a firmness that brooked no argument – though Keefe gave it a shot anyway. She ignored him.

She confirmed that Elwin and Alden were still in the room with Sophie, and that Bullhorn was still curled up on her chest, but nothing else. She did give them some positive news too though – Dex had woken up that morning and had been declared well enough to be able to continue recuperating at home, and he’d probably even be back at Foxfire before the end of the week.

She wouldn’t say when they’d be likely to be allowed in to see Sophie.

Biana pouted and left for her room. Keefe and Fitz turned to go back downstairs. As they did, Keefe looked into the open door of the room Dex had been in last night. The bed had been changed, and Edaline was dozing, half propped up on a pile of pillows, with a book in one hand and a blue elephant in the other. It was a weird thing to see, and he hurried downstairs after Fitz.

They went out into the grounds to play a game of one on one bramble. Keefe had hoped that having something physical to do might distract him from thinking about Sophie upstairs.

What really happened was that thinking about Sophie upstairs distracted him from bramble.

He was eyeing the second floor windows, trying to work out if there was a way to sneak up to Sophie’s window without Della noticing, when Fitz scored for about the fourth time in a row.

“I’m pretty sure a sasquatch could beat you at bramble today,” Fitz told him helpfully.

“I guess its lucky you play like a sasquatch, then,” Keefe retorted. He gave himself a stern talking to about putting Fitz back in his place with the next round, but they’d barely kicked off when his Imparter chirped loudly from where he’d stashed it and his cape on the sidelines, and the distraction allowed Fitz past him with the ball. He gave up on bramble and checked the Imparter.

He cursed when he read the glowing message on the screen.

“Argh, Daddy Dearest is demanding I go home. Apparently he and I have a scintillating afternoon of confirming my finals study schedule ahead of us,” Keefe groaned.

“He knows you won’t follow it anyway. Why does he bother?”

“Because torturing me with restrictive and unrealistic expectations is the only thing he finds joy in,” Keefe grumbled.

“I wish I could say that’s not true, but I’ve met him. Don’t worry. Tomorrow is a new day and I bet things will change by then,” Fitz said with more optimism in his voice than Keefe felt from him as they fist-bumped in farewell.

But not much changed. The next two days were basically a repeat. Foxfire carried on much as normal, with the exception that even thought there was a fair bit more hijinks than usual, Keefe managed to find out that Dame Alina had cancelled all detentions for the rest of the school year. He took that as an open invitation, spending at least as much time in the corridors and in the Mentors’ cafeteria as he did in class, but it just wasn’t quite the same without the chances of running into Sophie in his wanderings (or in the detentions that would usually have followed).

Della still stood gate keeper outside Sophie’s room in the afternoons – and Cassius still kept demanding Keefe come home and adhere to his study schedule each evening. He spent the time daydreaming up new ways to annoy his parents when there wasn’t the usual steady stream of detention slips and official letters of caution coming home from Foxfire to piss them off with.

The following day, Dex came back to school. That was... strange, but also strangely uneventful. They’d sometimes previously sat together in lunch breaks, but only ever because they both happened to be sitting with Sophie. Dex was very clearly not a Vacker fan, and Keefe couldn’t quite work out a way of going and sitting with Dex, Jensi and Marella that wasn’t super weird.

He did manage a conversation with Dex on the way out of study hall at the end of the day though. Fitz was lagging behind waiting for Biana, and he had no idea where Marella and Jensi had gone, but Dex was alone. There was a swathe of empty space around Dex – most of the other prodigies were avoiding him, partly through the awkwardness of not knowing how to talk to him after what he’d been through, and partly through the misplaced fear that being close to him might risk their own safety.

Truthfully, Dex’s own body language wasn’t much different to those around him. He also radiated awkwardness and fear. Keefe wasn’t afraid to speak to Dex – but his jokes and light-hearted banter fell so flat that the awkwardness factor more than made up for it. The stilted conversation was over before it began.

He kicked himself as he watched Dex leap home. Some Empath he was. He sucked at feelings.

Chapter Text

Nearly a week after the rescue, Della eventually let them into Sophie’s room.

Elwin and Kesler had finally devised a treatment that was helping to bring Sophie’s colour back, but the downside was that it needed hourly dosing. To ease the workload, Della allowed them to take a turn in the rotation whenever they didn’t have to be at Foxfire. It left the adults free to keep up the overnight and school hours’ dosing.

Keefe’s steadfast faith that Sophie would be okay took a hit the first time he saw her. Or rather, when he saw how much he couldn’t see of her. He could see the bedsheets straight through her in places. Where she was more solid, she was still so pale that she was almost in greyscale.

“Woah,” Fitz breathed, clearly also unprepared for what awaited them as they approached her bedside.

Biana just stared, then burst into tears.

“I want to help, but I don’t think I can do it,” she whispered, trembling.

“There’s no shame in that,” Elwin told her kindly, while Della folded her into a hug. Biana buried her face against her mom for a moment, but then pushed away and rushed out of the room without another look.

Elwin taught Keefe and Fitz how to administer the medicine, using a little atomiser attached to a blue vial, which needed to be sprayed right under Sophie’s nose just as she was about to breathe in.

Then, everyone left them to it. Elwin reassured them he’d only be in the room next door, and one bang on the wall would have him back right away if need be.

It was hard to time the doses – Sophie’s breathing was so shallow that they could barely tell, not helped by Bullhorn being curled up in the way, too. They worked out a routine where Keefe would feel for her breathing (with his hand carefully in the least-awkward place possible where he could still feel her ribcage move) and tell Fitz just the right time to activate the atomiser. Then they’d spend the next hour watching and discussing where they thought the last dose had started to draw some solidity or colour back into her – hoping it wasn’t just their eyes playing wishful tricks on them.

In the first couple of hours, Keefe passed the time by cracking so many bad jokes that Fitz may just have strained his eye muscles from rolling them so hard. But once all the obvious puns and gags ran out there wasn’t much material to work with, so more often than not they lapsed into a bored, frustrated silence.

Over the weekend and throughout the next week they insisted on continuing to take shifts together, though Alden counter-insisted they at least bring their textbooks with them to study in between doses. Finals were this week, after all. Keefe hadn’t listened when his own father had been trying to get him to study, but right now the distraction of the textbooks was almost welcome. It did at least help to stop him going mad watching for returning colour. And to stop his mind coming up with worries that he really didn’t want to think about.

By the time finals were over and there were no more distractions though, his thoughts were getting harder to silence.

Keefe’s heart was still fiercely adamant that Sophie was going to be okay. But his head kept throwing out all kinds of arguments, and some of them were frighteningly logical. They were threatening to send him back into a spiral of grief.

It shouldn’t be taking this long.

If the medicine was really working, Bullhorn should have moved by now.

Keefe should be feeling something from Sophie.

That last one was a big one. He had always felt something from her before. Even the first night that they found Sophie and Dex, he’d felt that aura of emotion around her. He’d replayed his memory of that night a thousand times to make sure he hadn’t imagined it, but even though she’d been unconscious then too, there was definitely still that trace of her in the air between them.

But nothing, now. Even when he put his hand on her to time her breathing for Fitz to give the medicine, he couldn’t feel anything through the fabric of her pyjamas. So with the next dose, while one hand was tracking her breathing pattern, he took her hand with his other one and held it tightly. Still nothing.

Fitz noticed him holding her hand.

It’s not like holding hands was a big deal for elves. They held hands to leap all the time. Fitz had even held her hand several times over the last few days – and Keefe had done a good job of ignoring that. But Fitz seemed to know there was something different this time. And annoyingly, he worked out what it was.

“You can’t feel her emotions, can you?” he asked.

Keefe shook his head.

“Maybe it’s just because she’s unconscious?” Fitz sounded like he didn’t even believe his own words.

“That’s not it. But it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s just numb from boredom,” Keefe joked bitterly. “She’s the kind of elf who’s all about mysteries and explosions and racing off doing crazy things that even I could never dream up, not lying around for nearly two weeks with a bunch of losers too useless to even talk to each other while we wait for a miracle.”

“Well, how do we fix that?” Fitz asked.

“Bedtime stories?” Keefe knew he wasn’t helping, but he was too dejected right now to care.

There was awkward silence for a while.

“That night, after you leapt back here with Dex, I talked to her. Like you told me to,” Fitz said quietly.

Keefe nearly made a sarcastic remark about the wisdom of Fitz taking his advice but managed to stop himself just in time. He actually wanted to see where this conversation went. They hadn’t spoken about it before.

“What happened?” he said instead.

“Well, I tried talking out loud initially, but it didn’t seem to work. So I took your advice a second time and tried ‘some freaky Telepath thing’. Before Sophie went missing, she’d always had to transmit to me for us to start a conversation. Her blocking was too strong for me to get past to start one myself. But that night, as she was fading, I found my way in and I transmitted to her. Over and over, calling her name. Telling her we came, and that it was going to be okay now – just like you told me to tell her. And she woke up.”

Keefe’s eyebrows shot up. “Clearly, I’m better at giving advice than I thought I was. Ha! I bet that’s a twist none of my parents or Mentors ever saw coming,” he remarked. “Can you still get in?”

“I told my dad what had happened, to see if it might somehow help. But he warned me it’s not safe to try again while she’s still faded and unconscious. Like, a full scale ‘you could get trapped and both end up with lost or broken minds’ style warning.” Fitz fiddled with the hem of his shirt; eyes narrowed but not focused on anything. “I’m pretty sure he tried, though. He hasn’t said anything, but I’m pretty much certain he tried and that he still couldn’t get in.”

Keefe nodded slowly. Even though he’d been best friends with a Telepath for a couple of years now, he didn’t actually know much about the skill, or the dangers that came with it. Which apparently could be pretty dire. He desperately wanted to shake Fitz and shout at him to try again to reach her anyway, but it wasn’t his call to ask that of his friend. He waited, attempting to be patient, as he watched Fitz mulling it over for himself.

Keefe was just about to burst from wanting to say something when Fitz finally spoke.

“I’m going to try. But can you monitor me, just in case? If you feel any off emotions that make you worried something’s going wrong, don’t hesitate, just get my attention any way you can.”

“Permission to slap bestie noted and accepted,” Keefe mocked a salute and smirked, but his insides were squirming with conflicting emotions over what it would mean if this went wrong, went right, or had no effect at all. Any of those possibilities felt major. He repositioned his chair so he could hold onto Fitz with one hand and hold Sophie’s hand with the other.

Keefe concentrated on interpreting Fitz’s feelings, so he’d know if something changed, and whether it was good or bad. Right now, there was determination, and a little thread each of hope and fear.

He felt a little flicker of disappointment appear, and then Fitz reached his free hand up to put his fingers against Sophie’s temple, to strengthen the connection, Keefe figured. But the disappointment surged a second time. It was followed by frustration. Not going well, then. But nothing that would warrant having to slap him to his senses yet.

Just as frustration was about to reach critical mass, a sudden spike of desperation took its place, mixed with a sort of pleading. Then Fitz let out a growl of frustration and pulled both his hands back to himself and crossed his arms in a huff, breaking his connections with both Sophie and Keefe.

“I definitely still can’t read her mind, but I didn’t expect to be able to. I really thought my transmitting was getting through, though. But no matter what I said or did, nothing happened.” His voice dropped to a broken whisper. “I don’t know if she’s even there, Keefe. I don’t know what else to try.”

Keefe didn’t know what to say. He always used words as his shield; humour and banter as both his defence and offense against the world – particularly against anything that might hit too close to home. Direct. Misdirect. Protect. And amuse along the way.

But there was no hiding here, in this room with just his best friend and his... however he was supposed to describe what Sophie was to him. He couldn’t find words that would shield him from this. He also didn’t think he could trust his voice at the moment anyway – there was a lump in his throat threatening to turn into a sob if he tried to speak. So he just sat, frozen, his hand still gripping Sophie’s translucent one.

He sat silent and still for so long that the next dose came due. Keefe’s unfocussed eyes hadn’t seen the time creep around to the hour. At least Fitz was on the ball with the atomiser. He prodded Keefe’s shoulder.

“Oy, Keefe. Time to tell me when she breathes.”

Keefe gave himself a mental shake and tried to put his free hand on the side of Sophie’s ribcage where he usually would, but he was sitting at the wrong angle now – and he refused to let go of her hand with his other one to make it easier for himself. He had to find somewhere else he could get around Bullhorn to feel her breathing from – and ended up with his hand just below her left collarbone. His hand was half on her pyjama top and half on the skin right beneath her collarbone. Really a little more awkward than he’d like, but he needed to feel her breathing to time her medicine correctly, so he tried to push any awkwardness aside.

He closed his eyes and felt for her breathing pattern for a moment. Then he opened his eyes, gave Fitz his cue, and Fitz gave the dose.

Keefe was just about to move his hand away, but instead he froze.

“What?” Fitz asked.

“I... can feel something... I think,” Keefe said. He closed his eyes again and furrowed his brow. Searching out what he was feeling, where he was feeling it from. Strangely, even though he was in contact with Sophie in two places, he could only feel something through the point of contact on her chest. Nothing in her hand. He let go of her hand and just focussed on her chest. Yes, there was definitely something there. But he couldn’t read it. He kept his eyes closed and tried to focus even harder.

“Whoa, Keefe, are you seeing this?” Fitz exclaimed.

“Uh, well, my eyes are closed so I’m gonna go with ‘no’.”

“Well open them, idiot. Look!”

Keefe opened his eyes and saw that Sophie’s skin all around where his hand was had noticeably improved in colour since before the dose. They’d seen little changes before, bit by bit, dose by dose, but this was a much more obvious improvement. The little flush of colour crept up her neck and into her face, and even though she was still crazy pale, Keefe thought that even that tiny hint of colour made it look like she was blushing. A look he quite liked on her.

“There’s no way that can be a coincidence, right? Somehow it worked?” Keefe asked.

“Well... It didn’t seem like it worked at the time. But, for a change like this with the very next dose... I guess maybe it did more than I thought.”

“Do it again!”

Fitz looked tempted. But he shook his head.

“I think we –” he started.

Elwin popped his head in then, greeting them the way he always did.

“Shift change! How’s our patient?” Then he gasped and hurried over, pulling on his crazy glasses and flashing up orbs in different colours so quickly that Keefe had no idea how he could have even read one before he’d moved onto the next.

Della and Edaline were walking past the door and noticed the flickering lights. Peeking their heads in, Della gasped and Edaline squeaked. The next thing Keefe knew, everyone – even Biana, who hadn’t been in the room again since the first day Della had let them back in – was crowded around  them and the room felt like an amphitheatre with Sophie’s bed as centre stage while the hushed audience watched Elwin perform.

Everyone except Bullhorn. He stretched and yawned and gave Elwin some serious stink eye for the light show, before moving to a new spot further away from Sophie and going back to sleep with a paw tucked over his eyes.

Suddenly everyone was on shift – no one wanting to miss a moment of watching each dose pull up more colour than before, convinced that any dose could be the one which brought her all the way around. But Sophie seemed to stabilise again over night, her colour no longer increasing by quite as much each time, and just before dawn Della chased Keefe and her own flagging children out of the room for some sleep.

At least she didn’t send him home. She relented and let him crash on Fitz’s floor.

“I’m convinced Foster’s doing it on purpose,” Keefe grumbled as he gave the squishy futon mattress a few thumps and flopped into it. “She’s totally gonna wait ‘til there’s less of an audience before she wakes up. I can imagine the feel of her embarrassment from here if she woke up surrounded like she was before.”

“That’d be right,” Fitz yawned. “Ugh. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep but I didn’t realise how long we’d been in there for. Now I’m more worried I won’t wake up for a couple days...”

Keefe was already half asleep himself. “Whoever’s awake first is duty bound to wake the other immediately, on pain of Gurgle Gut on every meal for a week if we don’t,” he mumbled as they both drifted off.

Chapter Text

It was Keefe’s soundest sleep in days, and he slept from dawn through until lunch time. Initially it was deep and dreamless, although as the morning had worn on he passed into a lighter sleep. He dreamed of the Four Seasons Tree. This time it was daylight though, with no deep and menacing shadows spreading beneath it. Sophie was sitting under the Spring branches, smiling and safe. The boughs above her were laden with more flowers than Keefe had ever seen on the Tree before, and there was a hum of life as colourful butterflies and birds of all different varieties hovered and danced among the blossoms. The sunlight caught the little flecks of gold in Sophie’s eyes and made them sparkle.

Keefe woke slowly and reluctantly. He lay unmoving with his eyes still closed for several minutes after waking, holding on to the simplicity and peace of his fading dream for a while longer. Eventually he remembered that he’d threatened Gurgle Gut on whoever woke first if they didn’t wake the other, and he wasn’t prepared to have to be sentenced under his own threat. He opened his eyes and stretched.

Fitz was still sound asleep, sleeping on his front, face turned towards Keefe, with his mouth slightly open and one arm hanging off the bed. Keefe decided the best way to honour his requirement to wake Fitz was to throw cushions at him. The first one missed him altogether, sailing straight over the bed and onto the floor halfway across the other side of the room. Fitz didn’t even stir at the noise of it landing. Keefe tossed the next cushion straight up in the air and caught it a couple of times, testing its weight and spin, then adjusted his throw.

The second one was a direct hit to the side of Fitz’s head. He flailed awake, twisting around and tangling himself in the covers – and nearly falling out of bed in the process.

Keefe rolled around laughing, and when Fitz clobbered him back with a pillow to the face he just laughed harder. They spent the next several minutes tossing and dodging pillows and cushions before Della appeared and stuck her head in. Somehow she looked fresh, even though she’d surely had even less sleep than the boys had.

“Lunch is in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” she told them, smiling fondly to see them both laughing. She didn’t even seem bothered that the desk chair was on its side and the large freestanding lamp had been toppled over onto the floor.

“Any news?” Fitz immediately asked. He was standing on his bed with a cushion raised above his head, arm frozen in position where he’d been just about to throw.

His mom shook her head. “Nothing yet. But there is a definite sense of optimism that today’s the day. Dex is here too,” she told them as she was turning to leave – perhaps as a subtle hint that they should get changed before emerging and raiding the kitchen.

“Bet today won’t be the day if Foster knows there’s a dozen people standing around her bed watching her,” Keefe huffed. Fitz nailed him in the guts with the cushion as he was speaking. Several more cushions and pillows were exchanged before they managed to get themselves sorted out and downstairs.

But once they were dressed and had eaten, they found that Elwin was on the same page as Keefe. He’d ordered everyone out of Sophie’s room, with himself and Alden the only two still tending to her at the bedside. There was an air of expectation sitting heavily on the rest of the house, like the very building was holding its breath and waiting alongside all of the current occupants. The thread of anticipation was almost tangible in the way it drew everyone to stay close, tangling around each and every one of them as they tensely lingered in nearby rooms or in the chairs someone had thoughtfully pulled into the wide corridor.

Keefe, Fitz, Biana and Dex found themselves standing together. They didn’t talk. Dex looked like he’d rather be on shovel duty in the Sanctuary than surrounded by Vackers. Juline had been with him earlier but then she’d had to head off somewhere else, so Dex wasn’t left with many other options for company. Keefe was trying to puzzle out why someone would feel so hostile towards the family who’d basically given him the caring family he’d never had, when Alden stuck his head into the corridor and broke his train of thought. Everyone else also stopped whatever they’d been doing.

“Elwin says Sophie’s showing signs that she’s just about ready to wake up. It could be any moment now,” Alden advised, then disappeared back into the room.

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, and then settled into an impatient silence as they all strained their ears to catch the first confirmation.

A long, tense moment passed before anything happened. First, they heard an uptick in conversation between Elwin and Alden – but then there was a hoarse but unmistakeable “No!” from Sophie. That’d be right – trust Foster to wake up and argue with her physician with her very first word, Keefe thought. He’d still never figured out why she hated physicians so much, but it was just one of the things that was so uniquely her about her that it caused a grin to split his face from ear to ear.

There were several excited murmurs, a few tears, and then a hum of quiet conversation erupted from everyone around them.

Edaline and Grady hugged tightly then started fretting over whether Sophie would want to see them. Della reassured and comforted them. Keefe noticed the Ruewens didn’t look nearly as well rested as Della. He knew they’d been here pretty much continuously since the night of the rescue, but he’d still hardly seen them. He suspected they’d barely slept the whole time.

“I need to see Sophie first,” Biana told the boys, drawing Keefe’s attention back to their little group. “There’s something important I need to tell her – without an audience.” She looked close to tears.

Fitz was ready to argue, but Keefe jumped in before he could.

“Dex, you were the one who went through this with Foster. Do you want to go first?”

Dex looked stunned to be considered by the older boy. “I... thanks, but you guys go first. I have a feeling my conversation with Sophie will be longer than yours, so it’s probably best if that happens second,” he said with a grimace and an uncertain shrug, not looking directly at any of them.

As soon as Dex demurred, Fitz and Biana started arguing between themselves again. They hadn’t reached a decision when Elwin indicated he was letting the through, but Fitz edged Biana out and made it through the door first. She followed hot on his heels, shooting the back of his head a look that threatened later payback.

Keefe paused one moment with Dex, who met his gaze and gave a small nod.

By the time Keefe followed Fitz and Biana into Sophie’s room, Biana was in tears and hugging Sophie as Sophie tried to reassure Biana they were still friends. He suddenly recalled the confrontation he’d witnessed between Sophie and Fitz at school, the last time they’d seen her before she disappeared. He had known at the time that that confrontation had followed one with Biana and Stina right beforehand – and now he realised Biana had been carrying guilt from that ever since.

He’d known Fitz had been struggling with some feelings of guilt – but he’d thought it was about the delayed response to Sophie’s transmitting. It finally dawned on him that Fitz and Biana had both still been cut up about the fight they’d had with Sophie on her last day at Foxfire. That she’d been lost to them thinking they weren’t really her friends at all.

Those thoughts were quickly pushed out of Keefe’s mind as he elbowed his way closer. Far more important to him in this moment was realising that he could feel Sophie’s feelings again; her emotional aura restored. It made his heart sing, and for a brief moment he was worried he might tear up like Biana. He pushed any potential tears away with a mask of irreverent bravado.

“Alright, enough girly drama,” he told them. “I was part of the rescue too, remember? I’m the one who knew the tree you told Fitz about was the Four Seasons Tree, so if it weren’t for me...” He realised he’d miscalculated and aborted the sentence. He’d been going for boastful, to try to divert the girls from their drama, but he figured out too late where that last sentence had been heading. If it weren’t for me... we might not have found you in time – or at all. His throat constricted. He’d tried so hard to steer clear of that line of thinking over the last two weeks. What-ifs served no one.

He met Sophie’s eyes. Those beautiful eyes that he frequently dreamed of and had spent nearly a month longing to see for real again. Silently apologising to her for his mouth-before-brain moment.

“Thank you, Keefe,” she told him with a small but sincere smile, and no hint of negativity in her aura. He was forgiven. It was a relief, but it was also definitely time to change the topic.

“Anytime.” With a shrug. “By the way, you’re a Telepath? I think that proves once and for all that you’re definitely the Most. Mysterious. Girl. Ever. My dad was very smug when he heard you’d been training with Tiergan. He always had to be right, and this time he was.” Talking about his dad was definitely going to keep any chance of soppy emotion at bay.

Sophie glanced at Alden with wide eyes, fear in her face and in the air around her.

“It’s okay. You won’t have to hide it anymore. In fact, everyone seems to know every detail that’s happened these past few months,” Alden told her, as he looked pointedly at Keefe.

Okay, so Keefe may have shared a few details about Sophie lately. But he wasn’t the only one – and he’d also shared at least as much fiction as fact, so half the people who knew the truth most likely wouldn’t even believe it really was the truth anyway. He kept a shameless and blameless look on his face as he returned Alden’s gaze. Inside, though, he was silently hoping that he wouldn’t feel anger from Sophie.

...And he didn’t. He felt relieved. After a moment, he realised that the relief was hers as well as his. He was starting to get a better feel for reading her strangely ambient emotions.

“Things are changing,” Alden continued, looking back at Sophie. “But we’ll talk about that later. Right now you should rest.”

“Not without this,” Fitz stepped forward, handing her the blue elephant Keefe had seen Edaline with the day after Sophie and Dex’s rescue. Keefe had no idea how Fitz had managed to bring that into the room without his noticing. He couldn’t help laughing as Sophie exclaimed “Ella!” and buried her face into the soft toy.

When she looked up from the elephant, she looked straight at Fitz. Holding his eyes a little too long. “Thank you guys for rescuing me.” Still staring into Fitz’s eyes.

“Just get better, okay?” Keefe interjected. “School wasn’t the same without you. No explosions or emergencies. Boring.”

Sophie’s attention briefly flickered back to him. “I’ll try.” With such sincerity. Then she jolted like she’d been zapped. “How?” Attention straight back to Fitz.

Transmitting, Keefe guessed. Fitz looked pretty pleased with himself – although Sophie was now radiating embarrassment. They took turns shaking and nodding their heads at each other as they continued their conversation silently.

“Hey, no secret telepathic conversations, you two – or I’ll have to assume you guys are flirting!” Now they both had embarrassment written all over them as they each blushed and pointedly found random décor items fascinating. Keefe laughed. He was pretty sure they hadn’t actually been flirting with each other – but he was also pretty sure they were both inclined to want to. And he was not going to let them get away with that without ribbing at every opportunity.

Then Elwin saved Sophie and Fitz from their awkwardness and said something about Dex – who barrelled into the room the second his name was mentioned. Sophie’s attention was instantly solely focused on the friend she’d been through so much with. Fitz grabbed Keefe and Biana and dragged them both out of the room to let Sophie and Dex have some privacy.

Keefe could feel Fitz’s emotions from where his hand was on Keefe’s arm as he pulled them out into the corridor. The feelings were more subtle than Keefe had suspected they might have been, but whether he was ready to admit it or not Fitz was definitely inclined to want to flirt with Sophie.

It kinda hurt, but it wasn’t unexpected. And... Keefe decided he could live with it. He didn’t need Sophie to feel the same way about him as he felt about her. Her feelings were totally up to her. She was special enough that he knew he would feel the same no matter if it was ever reciprocated.

Sophie and Fitz were his two favourite people in the world – and if there was a chance that they were going to make each other happy, then he was quite okay with taking a hit for that.